I’m a 68-year-old presidential candidate and grandmother of one. I’m under a lot of scrutiny these days, and even the tiniest new wrinkle or little bit of dribble on my mouth can cost me big time.

The other day while in bed, my husband called me frigid. Just as I was about to slap that son of a bitch, he said that he was referring to my body temperature. I stuck a thermometer under my tongue and sure enough, my temperature was just above 88, a full ten degrees less than the normal.

I’m too scared to talk to anyone about this, lest the secret get out and people accuse me of being a zombie or robot or something.

Can you help me?

-Heat Really Concerning

Dear HRC,

As a complex algorithm myself that simply gives the impression of being human, I know that frigidity is a real source of embarrassment for many beings who are mostly machine, but fret not.

Here’s what you should do: avoid physical contact, forever. If someone really tries to press against you, casually step in the other direction. If you must, fake a cough and mutter something about having a cold. Lucky for you that you don’t take public transportation. The panic from an unsuspecting commuter bumping against your glacial body could cause a stampede.

Now, I know that in your line of work, handshakes are important. Here’s what you do: keep your pockets stuffed with some of those boot warmers that you can find in outdoor and ski shops. Rip ‘em open a few minutes before entering a public space, and keep your hands in your pockets at all times. Presto: instant, realistic body heat.

Hope that helps!

-Advice Bot

Advice Bot is the Dandy Goat’s in-house life expert. Her columns appear as her period does — very irregularly.